Arthur's Round Table
by Lysi Nothuna
Summary: Whilst America was dealing with bittersweet memories cleaning his storage room England was facing his own nostalgic memories. These memories ran far deeper and older than America's ever could, for England was far older. So the happy memories were happier. But the sadder memories…the sadder memories were sadder too. K for mentions of death and the like


Arthur's Round Table

ENGLAND'S POV

America had told me for a while now that he was going to clean his storage room. I personally doubted he would actually do it. He was quite a coward once his bravado was stripped away from him. I knew that at the first sight of an artifact from the days he wishes to forget he would run away. I knew once he saw that scratched rifle (I had found it myself one day looking for china he had borrowed and never returned) he would remember and flee. It was in his nature to do so.

But he inspired me. I had quite the clutter in my storage space too. My maid always wanted to clean it out herself but I always stopped her, because personally, I was scared of losing items I never even touched since the last time I actually used them.

"You are finally going to clean that wretched place, Mr. Kirkland?" she asked me after I put on a pair of worn jeans and a stained shirt.

"I will try," I replied quietly, trying my best to mentally prepare myself. America got his cowardliness from somebody.

I went my way past my maid and outside my old manor. Across the wet grounds I went, ignoring the soft spring rain that dampened my blonde hair. Before I could rationalize myself, before I could stop myself. Before I could do anything of my own free will I was inside the musty stone shed. The shed that was filled with treasures so old and precious a historian would die of sheer ecstasy at finding so many things once considered lost.

I past a cup and a coffin (1), a sword of ice (2), an ankh (3), and a pipe (4) deciding that those were of happier times and could stay. They were treasures of the past that I intended to keep. But then I past things of more haunted times. A rifle, devoid of its bayonet, ripped off by America's rifle when I made my last stand to keep our relationship. A dented tiara with blood smeared over it, a sign that Mary was no innocent virgin (5). A green hat with a red feather (6), next to a bag of coins that if you touched would curse you with a curse Spain inducted against me (7). A curse that was broken. An old propaganda poster (8). A beaked mask (9), a barber's razor (10), a gritty knife (11), and a red coat. I put those in boxes. These I would send to museums that would value them much more than me.

Then I stumbled across the things I threw deep into the back of the shed. The first was a hat. Nothing in particular, unless you counted the fact that it belonged to my long disappeared sister, Wonderland.

Her alias had been Alice Hightropp. Quite the girl, she was. She looked quite like her savior, nothing like her bosses. She had wispy blonde hair the same color as my own. But unlike her savior, who had blue eyes, she had lime green eyes. Her full lips were always smiling, even when she was sad. The other countries, if any ever had the fortune of meeting her, dismissed her as mad. No, she was not mad. Different. She perceived reality in a different logic than we do. She was the one who asked the questions we all thought but thought that they were too insane to ask aloud. Sadly, no one ever took the time to give her an answer.

One would think that after she finally found her savior that she would be happy, but she wasn't. Instead, she grew more absentminded than normal. First she stopped attending meetings that were set up with our allies. Then she pulled herself away from them altogether, cursing reality for its damnable infallibilities. Then she cursed me for never giving a proper answer to her riddles. I cried. She cried. Reason found Alice, if only temporarily. She begged for me to come with her, when she finally cut her world off forever from ours. But I had to say no. My land was my priority. I stood strong for my people and tried my best to not shed a tear when she gave me a farewell hat made by the Hatter himself and disappeared one last time down the rabbit hole.

Anger had surged within me at that moment and I had begun to fill the hole with earnest, never considering that she may one day want to come back. I ruined that chance for her. Now that I know that I wish I could reverse it, but I have long since forgotten the location of the portal.

Then I found a bag of golden powder, barely glowing. The string keeping the bag closed had rotten away and some of the dust had gotten out and spilled on the dusty floor. My fingertips dusted the golden powder and I brought the dusted hand to my eyes to inspect better.

It was the pixie dust my brother, Neverland, had always loved. He had been quite an adventurous boy, just like his boss, Peter. His name was Mimsy Kirkland, and his odd name suited him. Only a boy as wild as he could think of a name like that.

_To die would be an awfully big adventure._ That is what he told me the last time I saw him. I never knew what he meant by telling me that. I thought it was just some inane childhood phase he had fallen in to. He was always so good at that. Yes, much like his boss, he never wanted to grow up. Blonde hair like mine but expressive brown eyes that were always so innocent. Mimsy never looked older than twelve, never grew a facial hair, and never developed an Adam's apple.

He had the personality of a boy that age too. In fact, Sealand used to constantly remind me of him. His wild behavior, always wanting to play, innocent eyes, a lust for adventure. That was Mimsy. He was Neverland. He left one day, abruptly. He told me his friend, who I knew to be his boss, had suddenly left and he was without a leader. This was the first time he had ever looked sad. And it was the last time I saw him. Little did he know that his boss had returned to me and became a simple citizen, living out his life as a normal being.

I never discovered how to get to Neverland. Some nights I would awake and I was just…there. The first time this happened I thought it was a dream, until Mimsy had shown up at my own house and reminded me of my first visit. We would have a back and forth correspondence after that, but my visits to him were few and far between as I never picked them. Perhaps if I knew how to get there I could check on him. But I didn't, so he was just another lost dream.

The last thing I found brought me to my knees. Shakily, I stood up, and rested a hand on the ornate wardrobe. Yes, it was _the_ wardrobe. The entrance into my favorite sister's land. Or at least it used to be.

She was the only one who truly understood me. Perhaps it was because me and her were actually blood related, compared to me just claiming siblinghood over Wonderland and Neverland. Or perhaps it was because she was always inquisitive.

She was the other child of Aslan. The only one He created that wasn't on the Earth Plane. She had brown hair that fell in long curls and deep green eyes much like my own. There were lines on her face due to the experiences she faced, but there was always a spark of light in her eyes and a smile on her face.

Evanna was her name. Evanna Kirke. She titled herself that after my own alias' last name and the name of her first Son of Adam. Evanna was a derivative of sorts of Eve while my name was similar to that of Adam. Thus we were an Adam and Eve, not the original mind you, nor were we romantically involved like the pair of old.

We would borrow citizens from each other. The Pevensie's helped her as did their friends. She sent Caspian into my land to help out the world and her heroes in times of need. Evanna was a fair and nice woman, but her rulers weren't always so. Jadis turned her into a soul of ice, and Caspian's uncle turned her into a foreign wretch. But she was able to piece herself together with help of the Pevensie's and our father Aslan. It was eventually not enough.

The young girl that was born so far in my timeline yet was so much older died in my arms. Aslan had no choice but to destroy her, before she destroyed herself. Her country went rotten, filled with those who were no longer loyal. With a mighty roar she fell, and took the Friends of Narnia with her save one Daughter of Eve. I was there.

_I looked at Evanna's land, so covered in waste. It used to be a lush paradise, though not of the tropical kind. Fae used to flit about the forest and play with the Nymphs. The Fauns and the Centaurs would graze and the animals would talk. Mermaids and other sea creatures would sing by the sea. Life in Narnia used to be happy and filled of magic._

_Of course she had her dark times, but Evanna's Narnia never looked as bad as this. Blackened trees and grass covered the wasteland. Water was a thick sludge. Bodies decomposed on top of the earth, leaving a horrid smell._

_Evanna herself didn't look much better. She was ashen faced and her skin and lips were cracked. Blood streamed from cuts on her body and her hair was tinged with grey and ratty. There was no more fire in her eyes and no more smile gracing her lips. The wrinkles that used to give her face an aged regality turned her into a hideous hag. My sister was in a horrible state of disrepair._

"_Brother," she choked, embracing me. I hugged her too thin form, tears welling in my eyes._

"_What happened to you, Eve? The last I saw you, you looked like you always did," I asked in a soft voice._

"_I am not going to lie to you, Arthur. I am dying," she told me sadly, tears falling slowly down her now dirty and worn face._

"_Dying?!" I gasped, stepping back from her. I had never seen a country die before. It wasn't something very common in the modern world. In fact, I used to believe we never could die._

_She nodded her head. "Yes. My people have forgotten me and my father. I am old and tired and I'm ready to give up this life. Aslan will take me soon."_

"_No!" I protested. "Please! You can't leave me here alone!"_

"_You are never alone, Arthur," she said sadly, placing a hand on my face._

"_Yes I am. I can never tell anyone other than you my troubles because you are the only one who listens."_

"_They listen. I know you don't believe it but they do. They just handle it differently than I or you would. You must learn to be patient with them, as I have with you," Evanna explained. Suddenly her jade eyes turned over my shoulder. Sadness and relief flushed her face. _

"_He's here isn't he?" I asked, closing my eyes in defeat when she nodded her head._

"_I love you so much big brother. Do not forget me," she ordered calmly._

"_I love you too, and I promise, Narnia will never be forgotten. And promise me that you will wait for me," I told her. She smiled her last true smile and went over to the Great Lion. He breathed warm air on her face that blew away her wrinkles and other physical maladies. She turned into the little girl I used to know before my eyes and tears streamed down my face as I raised a hand in goodbye as she entered Aslan's realm without me. Then there was a loud roar, and Narnia split in pieces, destroyed by an unseen force. I was forced out of it before the destruction could take me and I found myself gasping and sobbing on the wrong side of the wardrobe. The next day, I heaved the bloody thing into the storage shed and hid it from my eyes. _

I made sure to keep Evanna's promise. I went to a man, an author, and asked him to write her story for me. Of course, he saw the story as a work of fiction and a way to make quick cash so there was no fear of her being considered real. These stories are still circulated to this day.

I stroked the wood with loving nostalgia and whispered, "I kept my promise, Evanna. Now I need you to keep yours." I turned away from the wardrobe and left the shed with the box of items I intended to send away.

As I reentered my house I heard that familiar laugh of the bloody frog. "_Hon, hon, hon. Angleterre, _would you hear this?" America and the rest of the G8 were with him, grins plastered on their faces. Chances are someone said a nasty joke of some nefarious sort.

"What are you doing here?" I asked tiredly, doing my best to act like I wasn't just crying.

"Thought we would drop by," America said casually. "You know, check up on our isolated island buddy."

"Thanks for stopping by but if you would kindly leave…," I said in a strained voice and attempted to herd them out.

"Not so fast, _aru!_" China protested and crossed his arms. "Something is wrong today."

"I knew the rain would get to you eventually," America added, smirking. My temper immediately flared at their naïveté.

"I AM NOT UPSET BECAUSE OF THE BLOODY RAIN!" I roared, causing everyone to go still in shock. "IN FACT, IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH _ANY_ OF YOU SO IF YOU WOULD KINDLY _LEAVE_ MY PREMISES I THANK YOU!"

"Does this have to do with your storage cleaning, England?" Canada asked quietly.

"Wha-?" I asked, shocked that they knew. "How did you know?"

"Your maid told us," Germany shrugged.

My shoulders stooped in defeat. "Yes it does. Now please go."

"No England," America said defiantly. "You tell us what's bothering you."

I looked at them all wearily. "Why do you care?"

"Because we are your allies and your friends!" Italy exclaimed happily. I gave a small smile at the nation's always bubbly and bright attitude.

"So, will you tell us?" Canada asked slowly.

"I-I," I stuttered. _They listen. I know you don't believe it but they do._ I sighed. "I guess so."

"Yay!" Italy squealed happily.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but I have had two other sisters and a brother," I began.

"I'm the brother, right?" America asked confusedly. "So who are our sisters?"

"Not you, you git," I hissed irritably. "Somebody else."

"Why didn't you ever tell us about them?" France asked, slightly hurt.

"Because at the time we all weren't allies like we are now and because you _had_ met them in the past but chose to forget about them," I explained through gritted teeth.

"We did?" Everyone asked.

"Yes. Narnia, Wonderland, and Neverland. Evanna, Alice, and Mimsy," I stated heavily. It hurt to even say their names.

"I remember them now. Neverland was a wild little rascal, wasn't he? And wasn't Wonderland a bit ditzy? Narnia was the only one I could ever truly hold a conversation with," Germany said. Although he wasn't on completely even terms with me during that time most countries still mingled with each other, though not the same way we do now. I wouldn't be surprised if they talked together back then.

"Yes, but Alice wasn't ditzy, she was different," I clarified; slightly annoyed at the common prejudice that most countries had put on her that caused her to break and run away.

"Different, ditzy," Germany muttered under his breath but I didn't reply.

"I never met them, what were they like?" America asked with wide eyes, the most interested of the group.

"You would have like them. Like I said, Alice was different. You could never predict anything from her and she always liked having nations try and solve her infamous riddles. She looked a lot like you but had lime green eyes. Mimsy was a handful, that was for certain. He decided to never grow up and stayed forever a boy, and acted like one. One never wanted to be in the same room when he had one of his infamous temper tantrums. Evanna, Evanna was my other half, platonically. She could finish my sentences and was always ready to listen to me and give advice. I hate to admit this but Evanna was my favorite, maybe if only because she was my only blood relative. The other two were self-proclaimed siblings like you are," I explained to him.

"Wow," he breathed. "They must have been very cool."

I gave a slight smile. "They were. They were also the only close friends I ever had."

"What happened to them?" Japan asked in his quiet calm voice.

My smile faltered and my eyes grew glassy once more as the memories once again assaulted me. "Alice broke. Too many countries despised her for being different and called her crazy. She ran away. In a fit of anger I destroyed the entrance to her realm. She can't come back even if she wanted to. I don't even know if she is still alive and well or not." Germany looked down at the carpet, a guilty look on his face for calling her ditzy. The snide part of me decided that it served him right. The other side of me felt pity.

I cleared my throat and continued. "Mimsy left next. I…don't really know what happened to him. He just told me one day his boss had left and that was the last I heard from him. I don't even know how to find him even if I looked."

"And Evanna?" France pressed gently.

"Evanna, my dear sister, she…," my voice broke and I coughed. "She died," I said, my voice rising in pitch as the tears threatened to flow.

"I'm sorry," Italy said sadly and that made me want to cry harder at seeing the normally happy country look so upset.

"It's alright," I sniffled, wiping the tears away. "It was a long time ago. I've learned to live without them, but seeing their items in my shed brought back their memory."

"They seemed like great nations that you should never forget, England," Canada said. "They are what helped make you who you are today. Accept that. Live through their memory and don't be upset by their passing."

"And you should know!" I snapped, my temper flaring once more. "You have never lost someone!"

"I nearly lost both you and America, England," he replied stiffly. "I never want that to happen to me again. You actually did lose someone so I bet what you feel is way worse but I know that what I felt must be quite close."

"I-I'm sorry, Canada. That was foolish of me to snap," I apologized after hearing him out. Apparently the Revolutionary War hurt him more than I thought.

"It seems you have a whole life we never knew about, England," Germany said suddenly. He smiled. "Would you care to tell us more about it?"

I lifted my gaze to him. "You all really want to know it all?"

"Of course! We want the details, Iggy! Tell us everything about them!" America pleaded.

My eyes brightened up and I smiled. I leaned forward in my chair and said, "Well, let's start with Alice, as she was the first to come along and the first to leave…"

The storage closet forgotten, I told the nations about my lost siblings, and I fulfilled Evanna's promise once more.

**AN: So what do you think? This plot bunny hit me hard when I was reading some Chronicles of Narnia/ Hetalia fics involving England and remembered the little sketch of America's Storage Room Cleaning. I decided to follow the same sort of storyline but change it up a bit to fit England and have a happy ending. So review and let me know how I did!**

**Also: For those of you who couldn't figure out what the numbered objects were:**

**1. **_**A cup and a coffin**_**- This was a play on the Holy Grail. The one of history and of the **_**Indiana Jones**_** movie makes it a cup while in the **_**Da Vinci Code**_** and in some legends it is believed to be the body of Mary Magdalene (who is the prostitute that cleaned Jesus' feet with her hair and tears before he died on the cross). On the History Channel, an Englishman claimed to have followed a series of clues and found the cup version of the Holy Grail. SPOILER ALERT: In **_**The Da Vinci Code**_** they discover the sarcophagus of Mary was kept in Rosalynn Church in Scotland, before someone found it and moved it to the Louvre.**

**2. **_**A sword of ice- **_**Excalibur. If you ever read the Nicholas Flamel series (which I highly recommend), they call Excalibur the Sword of Ice.**

**3. **_**An ankh-**_** This has to deal with all of the archaeology digs done by Englishmen in Egypt during the late 1800s up until today. It also hints at the **_**House of Anubis **_**series, which is shown on Nickelodeon here in the US and is filmed in the UK.**

**4. **_**A pipe**_**- Sherlock Holmes' favorite pipe. Enough said. If you don't know who he is I am ashamed of you and I demand that you look him up.**

**5**_**. A dented tiara with blood smeared over it, a sign that Mary was no innocent virgin**_**- Bloody Mary. Again, enough said. Look her up if you never heard of it.**

**6. **_**A green hat with a red feather**_**- Robin Hood's hat like they show him having in the movies. I made it something that gave England bad memories because I thought that the setting of the Robin Hood story was a dark time for England.**

**7**_**. Next to a bag of coins that if you touched would curse you with a curse Spain inducted against me-**_ **The gold coins from **_**Pirates of the Caribbean.**_** Since England used to be a pirate I just assumed that he found the cursed coins some time or another and thought that Spain had cursed them.**

**8. **_**An old propaganda poster- **_**The now famous **_**Keep Calm and Carry On **_**WWII posters that were made in case Germany ever took over England. Presumed destroyed except for a few.**

**9. **_**A beaked mask- **_**Used by doctors during the Plague. The beaks were stuffed with herbs that were supposed to ward of the disease and were worn when doctors treated victims. Personally, they creep me out to no end.**

**10. **_**A barber's razor- **_**Sweeney Todd's murder weapon of choice. I feel sorry for you if you don't know who he is. Even sorrier if you don't know who he was played by in the movie.**

**11.**_** A gritty knife-**_** Jack the Ripper's murder weapon of choice. To put his story in short terms: Real life Victorian-era murderer who eluded capture in Whitechapel and killed a bunch of prostitutes in a very grisly manner. He even sent a horribly written letter to the police saying he ate half of one of the girls' liver.**


End file.
